Win, Win, and Win
by Lingering Lilies
Summary: You're pretty sure everyone in the restaurant can tell what's happening in your booth and, closing your eyes, you steel yourself and blurt out, "You can both win here, you know." Bramtana threesome.


**A/N: **This story was written for the Brittana Fandom Wanky Secret Santa Project I started on Tumblr. I guess my first fill isn't really secret, since I'm posting it here. Anyway,** ***_this is a Bramtana threesome GKM fill***_, **and it's wanky, so if that's not your thing, don't read. I just want the fandom to get along again, and** sometimes characters just want to fuck without sociopolitical agendas.** That being said, it is skewed towards Brittana. Enjoy!

**I repeat, this is a Bramtana threesome. **Not your thing? Don't read. Didn't read? Don't review. That's unclassy.

* * *

He has really nice lips. So pink and full. They're extra pink right now as he smiles at you from his place next to you in the booth, still bruised and raw from the past three days. He looks like he's going to say something, but then gets confused, so instead, he runs his fingers over your bare knee, then down the side, into the crevice at the back where your skin is most tender. You shiver, remembering how his tongue felt there last night before the world didn't end. You smile, thinking of just how sweaty and tired and sated you were, and how you should still be tired today, but somehow you're not. You're still buzzing. You open your mouth to suggest you skip the entrees and pretend the world is about to end again, but just as you do, he holds a breadstick up to your lips. You smile and take a bite.

"Trouty, you still have no game."

You freeze. She's supposed to be in Louisville.

But she hasn't been in Louisville much at all lately, which is confusing, considering she broke up with you because she wasn't going to be Lima often. Well, that didn't pan out like she planned. But plans rarely do.

Like your plan for being just friends with Sam. See, when he asked you to be his Mayan Star Wife, you had no idea what to say because you realized he actually believed the whole apocalypse joke. And looking at that sweet, dopey mug of his, you couldn't crush his end-of-the-world dreams. So you got coach Beiste to come up with some cockamamy non-binding ceremony and spent three days having sex like the world was ending. Since she left, spending time naked with Sam was a good way to pass the time. Time heals everything, right?

Something like that.

And honestly, Sam is a great guy. He's sweet and honest and watches out for everyone. And in addition to being a reliable distraction, he's one of the best lays you've ever had.

But now _she's_ here. She looks so beautiful and so sexy as she crosses her arms and tries to steel her face as she takes in the sight of you on a date with someone else. And maybe all you're doing is sitting next to him eating a breadstick, but it feels like she caught you with his dick in your mouth.

"Hi, Santana," Sam says, scooting away from you and setting down the breadstick. "I thought your were in Louisville."

"And I thought you still had a hard on for Mercedes," she quips back, tilting her head with a subtle, threatening quirk of her eyebrow.

"She's in L.A."

Sam glances between the two of you, his discomfort increasing by the second.

They stare each other down and you swear the temperature of the room goes up a few degrees. Sam's hand tightens on your knee and you feel torn. You want both of them.

You try to gentle her with your eyes, hoping she can hear your thoughts as you remind her of her own words.

_It's okay to date other people. It's okay to have attractions. It's okay to not be over each other. It's okay to want to rip each others clothing off in the middle of this restaurant and be done with it._

Okay, maybe she never said that last part. But she might as well, with the way she's looking at you, trying not to be too obvious as she scans you up and down. God, you miss her so much.

You know that even behind her steely glare, she doesn't think he's a bad guy. She said it was okay to date other people, which means anyone but Finn and that miniature monkey version of Quinn, who probably doesn't like girls anyway. Of all your options, she likes Sam the best.

This doesn't have to be weird, right? For all you know, she's been on tons of dates in Louisville. That was the deal, and you're not supposed to be jealous, even if you are. But you don't want her to leave. You can all get along, just like you did last year.

You scoot closer to Sam and he startles as you pat the seat next to you. "Come sit down," you offer, your words liquid and warm. You know she'll sit.

She does, and as soon as the faux leather of the booth stops squeaking, you smell her hair and her skin and her perfume and everything that makes you feel like warm cookie batter on the inside. She doesn't know Sam's hand is on your other leg as she slides her hand over your knee, making you melt inside.

Or maybe she does.

"How have you been, Britt?" she asks.

It's not a question. You know because she's asking in her low, buttery voice that means she plans on undressing you sometime in the near future.

You swallow. You can't tell her about all the end-of-the-world sex you've been having. But as she gazes into your eyes unabashedly, you think she might know. "Good."

And out of nowhere, it dawns on you that she knows just how good a lay Sam is. Not that she'd ever go back to guys.

"How've you been, Santana?" Sam asks, running his fingers against the tender spot under your knee, making your eyes flutter half-closed.

"Okay," she purrs, still staring at you in a way that says _pent up._

You're pretty sure everyone in the restaurant can tell what's happening in your booth and, closing your eyes, you steel yourself and blurt out, "You can both win here, you know."

You open your eyes because you're pretty sure you just heard Sam's mouth fall open and Santana's eyebrow lift.

"I mean," you backtrack, "If you want."

She glances at him for a second, gauging his restrained enthusiasm before looking back at you and swallowing. "Is that what you want?"

You stare at her for a second before glancing at Sam, whose eyes are trying not to bug out of his head at your suggestion. Without words, you ask him. His response is to quickly run his tongue over his bottom lip.

He's in.

You turn back to her.

"Uh huh."

She braces herself, zipping up for a second to get her bearings. She swallows and licks her lips. "Okay," she says.

And you know it's on.

Sam shifts in his seat, and you, too, feel as though you can't stop squirming in anticipation. Why didn't you think of this as part of your end-of-the-world plans? Having sex with her would be the first thing on your list if you actually thought the world was going to end.

"You in, Trouty?" she asks.

He shifts some more, trying to sound casual as he says, "Yeah."

She bobs her head. "Pay the bill."

Sam lifts his hips and reaches into his back pocket. You feel bad. He doesn't have much money, so you touch his arm and keep a straight face as you say, "Tonight's on me."

After you've thrown two twenties down, the three of your head out into the cold. As you realize you don't know who's hosting, Santana says, "My place in ten," before slinking into her car and starting the motor.

You climb into Sam's rattly old truck and he cranks it a few times before it turns. You try not to shiver as you watch his face. He's not looking at you and he's trying not to smile too big.

"You sure you're okay with this?" he asks.

"As sure as the world didn't end," you say.

He grimaces and you think that maybe you shouldn't have said that. But it doesn't really matter, because you had three days of awesome sex and now you're about to have more.

When you get to Santana's house, she's already inside. You ring the bell and she opens the door, looking more collected and in control than before. She's had time to plan. You step forward and, without ceremony, start kissing her as you and Sam take off your shoes.

She tastes just like you remember. Warm and smooth and exciting. She smiles into you as you wrap your arms around her neck, sealing your bodies together. From behind, you feel Sam's hands on your shoulders, coaxing your coat off you. You move your arms to let him remove it, but then fasten them around Santana again. He puts his hands around your waist and starts kissing the back of your neck as he kicks the door shut with his foot. You don't want to let go of either of them. After a second, his hands reach further forward, around Santana's waist.

Santana breaks the kiss, snapping back to attention. "Here's how this is gonna go down," she says. "First of all, Trouty, if Britt says she doesn't like something or it hurts, you stop. I don't care if you're one second from blowing your load, you stop. Clear?"

Sam barely takes his mouth off your neck as he mumbles, "Clear."

"Second of all, you are not touching me with that thing. Clear?"

"Clear."

"Third, you better have a condom."

"I do," he mutters.

"And fourth, if you even think of telling any of your little buddies about this, I will personally-"

"Clear," Sam grunts against your neck, louder.

"Good."

You smile at her, willing her to calm down. "It's okay," you say. "We don't need any more rules. Let's just have fun."

She melts under your gaze, nodding as her eyes fall to your lips, which you realize are straining toward her in a slight pout.

"'Kay," she says. "Living room or bedroom?"

"Bedroom," you mumble against her lips. "Your parents'."

"Gross."

"Kidding," you say, giggling.

But your giggle is cut off by Sam's strong, soft hand running up your chest, cupping your breast. "Living room," he says, his voice deep and certain.

You look into her eyes and echo, "Living room." And you think it's a good idea, since her bedroom will remind you of too much.

You set to work undressing her. First her shirt, which tries to cling to her delicious curves, but is no match for your determination. Her too-short-for-winter skirt follows, and as you push it down to the ground, you feel Sam's hands sliding around your waist, pushing the fabric of your dress between your legs, palming you as he presses against you from behind. He's already got his shirt off, and you feel him hardening through his jeans. As Santana runs her tongue over your ear, you feel yourself dampen. Your knees sway, and as they hold you upright, you're glad you decided to stay in the living room. The floor is like a giant bed anyway.

"What do you want first, Britt?" Sam asks, his hand running up your thigh under your dress to the edge of your panties. "We'll do anything you want."

"_Almost_ anything you want," Santana amends, smiling at you.

You can hardly find words to answer, but you know what you want to start with. "Take off your pants while Santana takes off my dress," you say.

You feel Sam pull away and hear his belt buckle clink as Santana lifts your dress, momentarily cloaking you in darkness before she presses against you, the warm skin of her stomach and thighs pressing against your own. She kisses you deeper now, her tongue more ravenous and demanding as you start to rock against her, wishing you could get some friction. Sam presses against your back, his erection straining through his boxers. You whimper into Santana's mouth as he starts running his hand up your side, twisting your hair to keep kissing your neck. Santana's mouth drifts lower to the sweet spot on one side while Sam leans in to scrape his teeth against the same spot on the other side. You groan and rock back on your heels into him. This is going to be overwhelming and thrilling and so, so delicious.

Santana's hand slides between you and into your panties, her fingers threading into your center. She groans when she feels how wet you are. You fall forward onto her, supported between the two people who care for you in such different and important ways.

Her mouth is back on yours now, with full-bodied kisses that tell you she's probably just as hot and wet as you are. You slide your hand between your bodies and tug her panties down and off, and yes, she is. As you sink into her, you hum into her mouth. It's been so long and she feels so good and now you have the added excitement of Sam. You run your fingers through the wetness that makes her feel so soft and open and ready.

You did this once with her before, but it wasn't the same. Afterwards she swore it wouldn't happen again, but that might have had something to do with someone else bearing witness to how much she loves you touching her. But now things are different, and the way she's rocking into your hand and kissing you like the world is going to end tells you she wants it too.

Sam's hands grow more urgent against you, his mouth hot on your shoulder. "What you do want, Britt?" he grunts, straining against the lack of attention he's getting. You reach back, pressing him against you with a firm hand as you pull your mouth away from Santana to say, "Get the condom." He pulls away and your back feels chilly for a second as you hear him rustling in his discarded jeans. You hear the flap of the packet and know he's unwrapping it, and you pull away from Santana long enough to stop him. You don't want him to feel like a stand-in for a toy. So you take the condom from his hand with a sly smile and nudge his boxers down with the other. You're not back on the pill yet - it wasn't necessary until recently - so you've been doing this a lot lately. Luckily he didn't argue that you didn't have to worry about contraception since the world was ending. But there's one trick you learned sophomore year that you haven't shown him yet.

As he slips his boxers down, freeing his erection, you wrap your hand firmly around him and pump as you lick up the side of his neck, grinning as he groans against you. As Santana's hands press into the flesh of your ass, you unwrap the condom and press it between your lips, sliding the tip into your mouth, careful not to let it touch your teeth. The lube tastes bitter, but it's no big deal. You slide your tongue into the tip of the condom, making sure there's no air bubble, and guide Sam to the couch. Once he's sitting, his eyes go wide. You grin and grip his cock with your hand again, stroking until he's fully hard. Santana's watching you from a few feet away, and you hope she's proud; she taught you this trick a few years ago. As you bend your head to meet the head of his dick with your lips, you press any air bubbles out with your tongue and use your lips to unroll the latex down his length. You don't press too hard, and you open your jaw as wide as you can to make sure your teeth stay as far away from the latex as possible. Once you've gone as far down as you can without gagging, you roll the rest with your fingers, lifting your head to grin at him as you wipe the lube off your lips with the back of your free hand. His jaw is slack and his eyes are hooded and you can tell he's very, very glad he agreed to this.

Once you've made sure the condom is fitted snugly around the base of his cock, you lick your way up his chest before looking over at Santana. She's got her arms crossed under her bra, but otherwise she's naked. The look on her face is muted, but you can tell she's turned on, even if she is capital-G gay. Sam can tell too, because he turns to her and says, "Want me to put these lips to use on you? They're kinda like a girl's," with hazy smile.

Santana gives him a short chuckle. "It's cool, Trouty. I'm good."

You don't want her to feel left out either, and as you recall last time you did this, you realize that it was about the two of you pleasing Puck rather than everyone getting their own. That's not going to happen this time. Not if you have anything to say about it.

You let go of Sam for a moment, standing up to draw her into you, wrapping one arm around her waist as you run your hand up her suddenly trembling thigh. She smiles as she runs her hand up your back. You tease her for a second, running your tongue over the crest of her ear before you slip your fingers into her center again. She whimpers and you let yourself sigh into her. Behind you, you hear Sam trying not to groan as he watches. It's hot, being watched. That was the idea behind making a sex tape last year, but it's much more satisfying to see the viewer's response.

"What do you want?" you murmur, trying to make your words quiet and intimate so she knows this isn't just about you or Sam getting all the attention. You slide your hand around her back to unclasp her bra.

She doesn't answer. You pause, stilling your hand. "Are you okay with this?" you ask, unsure.

She bites her lips for second but nods, rocking her hips into your hand before she whispers. "Will you...?" She trails off, glancing down at Sam on the couch.

You know what she's asking, and you break into a grin. She's still the same girl. She hates asking for things out loud, but you love going down on her just as much as she loves when you do. Sam definitely wouldn't mind watching. So you give her an eager nod. "Of course," you murmur, sliding her bra off and tossing it back at Sam with a wink. "Will you help me get ready for him?" you ask. She nods back and slides her hand down your stomach and pulls your panties to the side, quickly slipping a finger inside you. You shudder. Her fingers are powerful, and even though one finger isn't much, it feels like a lot. Probably because it's not just any finger, it's hers.

She works you up for a minute as you press against her, licking and nipping at her shoulder. When you feel yourself plateauing, you pant "another" and she quickly complies. Matching her, you slide two fingers inside her, knees weakening as you feel just how tight she is. You can practically feel the pinch as she stiffens for a moment before relaxing into your hand. She hasn't been having sex in Louisville, has she? You were pretty sure of that anyway. But as you realize that, you realize she can probably tell you've been having lots of sex recently. You feel guilty for a second, but when she pulls back to glance at Sam with a smirk, you realize she's not as phased by it as you thought she would be.

"Been having fun recently?" she asks.

Sidestepping the conversation, you volley back, "Not as much fun as we're about to have."

She seems to take that as a challenge, and guides your fingers out of her. She walks you back towards the couch and sits you down, pressing your legs open with her knees as Sam looks on. She's got that fiery smirk on, the look the tells you she's got a plan. Knees on the floor, she leans forward and takes your nipple in her mouth as she speeds up the motion of her fingers inside you. As she does, Sam leans over and cups your cheek, capturing your lips with his mouth. You can tell by the urgency of his hand as he grasps the breast Santana's not working on that he's enjoying this.

You're already breathless, overwhelmed by their attention. Your stomach is tensing in the best way. This has to be one of the best ideas you've had in a long time.

You have to physically push Sam away so you can breathe after a few moments of Santana's hand pumping into you as she sucks harder on your nipple. You curse as you break away, and Santana pops her mouth off, concerned. "Too much?" she asks. You can only shake your head no, it's not too much, but it's more than enough.

Sam licks your neck and you can only handle a few more moments of Santana's hand and mouth on you before you decide it's time to even out to the attention. "Okay," you pant, surging forward. Santana is surprised as you push her backward, toppling off the couch onto the floor, kissing her recklessly as her fingers slip out of your panties. "Fuck, this was a good idea," you whimper as you keep pushing her back onto the rug. You push her down until she's splayed below you, hair fanning out as she starts to pant, eager for your mouth on her. Behind you, Sam is watching as you trail your mouth down her neck. Your hand grasps one of her perfect, perky breasts and you take her other nipple into your mouth, sucking hard and gently scraping with your teeth. You slide back on all fours towards the couch as you kiss down her tummy and lick her hip bones. Her skin tastes so good, warm and just the tiniest bit salty. As you near her center, you feel your mouth getting wetter, eager to taste her. You nuzzle her clit with your nose for a second, breathing in her scent before you dip your tongue into her. She gasps and cries out as Sam groans on the couch. You can't help but smile as you lick up her center, slowly, wanting her to feel each nerve ending. She's so wet for you. You fix your lips around her, trying to cover as much as you can while you sink your tongue in further, eager to touch and taste as much as you can. It coats your face and fills you with desire to please her. It's divine.

As her hips start to cant up into your mouth and her moans rise in pitch, you feel Sam's hands on your hips. He's caressing your ass - one of his favorite things to do, you learned recently - and starting to tease your underwear down over one hip as his he palms the backs of your thighs and grasps each cheek. It feels good, like he's trying to memorize you with his sturdy hands. Santana is writhing below you by the time he finally slips your panties down to your knees, which are only a few inches apart on the carpet. You would get up and remove your panties completely, but you can't take your mouth off Santana now, not if you want her to come on your face with the force you feel building in her body. So you hum into her hot, wet flesh and reach back, guiding Sam's hand up from your thigh to your breast, squeezing over it, showing him you want him to touch you everywhere. And he does. He starts kneading your breasts and you feel his erection nudging between your legs, hard and ready, but oh-so-patient. You lift your mouth just long enough to grunt "_inside_" and seconds later you feel him pressing into you, getting ready to fill you up. As the head of his cock slides inside you, you moan into Santana and feel her squirm as her breathing pitches higher. Her thighs are straining not to clamp against your ears, wanting to stay open for you. Your tongue is getting sore, but you can't stop, not when she's like this. Not when you are surrounded by every taste, sound, smell and touch you crave.

He pushes into you, slow and confident, feeling for any tension in your lower back as you stretch to accommodate him. With your knees so close together like this, you feel fuller than usual, and he rubs against your most sensitive spot right away. You let go of his hands on your breasts as he starts rocking into you, filling you and pulling out, filling you and pulling out, hitting the backs of your thighs with each thrust.

You're trying not to pant into Santana, who is a mess of sweat and sounds beneath you. You know she's close when she puts her hand on your head, threading through your dampening hair. Brushing your hair aside, she tilts your head just enough that she can see your eyes as she presses your mouth right where she wants it. She's flushed, pleading, and desperate to finish. As Sam starts pumping into you faster, you slide two fingers inside her and match his pace, letting his propulsion extend through you and into her. Her head rolls back and you feel her slick walls clenching as her fingers try not to dig into your scalp.

"_Fuck_, Britt," she groans.

She's ready to let go and you're more than ready to watch her. You moan into her and squeeze her thigh with your free hand, pressing up into the soft ridged spot inside her and sucking on her clit. As you do, she arches and curses, breathless for a minute before she starts gasping, desperate heaves that make her whole torso seize. You draw her out, keeping in time with Sam's rhythm, feeling her release push you higher.

When her back falls back onto the carpet and she groans in relief, you lap up the liquid that seeped from her while she arched. She lets go of your head and cradles your cheek, drawing your gaze up in a calm, deep expression that seems to say _thank you_. You smile back _you're welcome_.

Suddenly Sam thrusts in with more force and you want to widen your legs and take him deeper, but you can't, the way his knees sandwich yours. He knows how much you like to feel filled like this. Your eyes flutter into the back of your head for a second before you force them back on Santana, wanting her to steady you. You like feeling your head surrounded by her while your hips are surrounded and filled by Sam. You worry that now that she's done, she'll just watch. But before you can think of something you want her to do, she's sliding under you, a wicked smirk on her face as she pushes Sam's hands away and starts kneading your breasts. She stops with her face directly under you, her smirk fueling the excitement and arousal in the basin of your hips.

Sam keeps thrusting into you, his cock nudging your sweet spot every time as he uses both hands to steady your hips below him. You have to brace your elbows to keep from being knocked forward, but it feels so good, you press back into him and feel a dull sting with each faint slapping sound of your thighs and ass against him.

"Feel good, baby?" Santana purrs up at you, threading one hand into your hair to help steady your head.

You can hardly catch your breath to pant out _"Yes_." Her grin widens and she coos, "Good" before drawing your face down to hers, tasting herself in your mouth as her tongue swirls with yours. You can't kiss for too long before you need to breathe, so you drop your head into her neck, trying to lick and nip, but you are so overwhelmed you don't have the energy.

"We're gonna keep going until you feel _really_ good," Sam grunts behind you, his fingers digging into your hips.

Santana licks your ear and pinches your nipples at the same time. You try to hold in the squeak that flies out of your throat, but you can't. Everything about you is tensing and pulling and you don't know how much longer you can hold yourself up without collapsing. A moment later, Santana reaches down between your legs, fingers nudging right above where Sam is pumping into you, and starts circling your clit. You gasp as she rubs slow, gentle circles into you, her lips and tongue caressing the side of your face and ear and neck.

"You gonna come for us?" she husks in your ear, speeding up her fingers.

You exhale what was supposed to be a _yes_, but gets drowned out in a gasp as Sam thrusts into you particularly hard.

"What was that, Britt?" she teases, circling faster.

You managed to groan out something that sounds like _yeah_.

"Yeah?" she grins against your neck.

She knows how close you are. You whimper into her as she speeds up her hand.

Behind you, Sam grunts, "God, ugh, you feel, ugh, 'mazing, Britt. So... close."

"You better hold off until she comes, Evans."

You know he will. He always does.

Her circles speed up to a frantic pace and as Sam grips your hips even tighter and keeps thrusting. Santana uses her free hand to tuck your hair behind your ear and presses her lips against it to whisper, "Come for us, Britt."

You feel your whole body twist and squeeze and expand as you come, suspended between them. You cry out and crane your head up, overwhelmed and supported by the bodies below and behind you. They keep moving, pushing, squeezing, rubbing, and vaulting you higher until you feel like you're about to collapse.

"Fuck!" Sam curses behind you, and you feel him stiffen.

As soon as you feel him come, you rock back a few more times before collapsing on top of Santana, trying not to land too hard. She catches you, arms wrapping around you as pant and groan and whimper in relief. She brushes the hair from your forehead as your legs stretch out, knees burning from the carpet, but otherwise warm and satisfied and spent. She keeps brushing your hair back and peppering the side of your face with kisses.

Sam takes the condom off and throws it away in the downstairs bathroom before sitting on the couch, unsure what to do while the two of your are sprawled out on the floor, legs entwined. You're not sure what he should do either, but after a moment, Santana says, "C'mere, Sammy," and jerks her head toward you. He gives her a hesitant, lopsided smile before hoisting himself off the couch, still naked, and lying down beside you with his hands behind his head. You reach over and draw his arm over your waist, making him hold you while you soak in the afterglow. His fingers grip the narrowest part of your waist, making you feel small and protected. Santana's arm is threaded under your neck, wrapping around your shoulder as her other arm holds your ribs. Wrapped up there together, you can't think of a better ending to your night.


End file.
